Your Day in the Barrel

Since the day they met, Mikey and Steven had been pretty much inseparable. They cooked together. They ate what they cooked together. They unwound together, usually reading books in the lounge and chatting under their breaths. Sometimes they even slept together.

And, of course, they used the barrel together, Steven stabilizing Mikey's pale, marbled buttocks in his hands while he humped himself against the oak wall, hearing his climactic shouts, then his little spurt, and finally his soft restful sighs.

Now, Mikey had put in for shore leave on the same day his trainee took his. They were boarding a bus at the port, and then Steven was going to lead him and a parcel of willing cadets on a tour of Amsterdam - a city he knew very well indeed.

"There are so many bikes!" exclaimed Walt, as they all strode out of the bus station that afternoon and into a busy maze of cycling paths. "How come everyone is on a bike? It's the middle of winter!"

"Indeed," said Steven, raising his eyebrows. "You don't want to see how this place gets in June and July..."

Weaving awkwardly through the maze, they turned a corner into a narrow street, disappearing in among madding crowds of tourists in sweaters. Steven showed them all the historic monuments, and he also pointed out the downtown shops that had the best deals. Bernd bought a new sweater, and he happily walked back outside to join his fellow sailor-men, the warm fabric comfortable against the north wind.

Briefly Kaspar stopped, his nose in the air. "What's that funny smell?" he inquired. "It's like... burning plants."

"That is cannabis, darling," Mikey told him. "Pot, if you will. Ganja." Then he promptly broke into a coughing fit while a cloud of the smoke washed over the group. A chatty couple was walking out of the coffee shop beside them, joints in hand.

"There are no laws against it here," Steven beamed. "None."

"What do ye say?" asked Otto, indicating the café. "I do need to warm up a bit."

Steven nodded back, and led them inside. The café's single room was brass-furnished, and painted in faded red. It had a table for six available, but they were seven, and so little Mauritz sat on Bernd's lap, feeling protected between that big belly and those wool-clad arms. They all ordered coffees, and a few pastries to share. Mikey clanged his mug with a spoon, and spoke up.

"Now, we still have to work tonight," he said, embracing his employee, "but I know you cadets don't. If you wish, you may get a joint to share among yourselves."

Cheerily, Walt called the server over, and she came back around with a wooden bowl and a freshly rolled spliff, along with a second one free of charge. He lit the first, took a long drag, and then passed it to Otto beside him.

Presently the table was filled with the sounds of puffing breaths and soft, laid-back conversations. Kaspar puffed twice, sniffing the hot, smoky air, and he grinned. Buried behind that scent, there was something stirring, some kind of hidden inspiration unlocking inside his shy brain. Mauritz held off. His aunt had used to smoke those things, and she'd gone a bit haywire as she got older.

"Pardon me a moment," said Otto, and stood up. Calmly, effortlessly, Kaspar's head turned toward the muscular, grey-shirted cadet as he walked to the bathroom. His britches were perhaps a size too small, and the curves of the fabric stood out, highlighting his beefy hips, the bulge between his legs, and his slim but powerful backside. The young blond treasurer stared, his eyes fixed on Otto as if held by a magnet.

A shining bolt of joy passed through Kaspar. He didn't know exactly what he would be ready for tonight. But it didn't matter.

Just trying was good enough.

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Late in the afternoon, the men returned aboard. The two cooks parted ways with the rest of the bunch, heading for their workspace, leaving the cadets to mill about in the lounge, the cannabis fumes folding in upon them.

"Full house," Mauritz boasted, sweeping their remaining poker chips away. Kaspar flinched.

"Oh - what'd I have?"

"King high," he said with a glare. "You fellas should not be messing with drugs! Don't you see what it's doing to your brains?"

Walt frowned. He wanted to feel guilty, but he just wasn't able. His Vietnamese parents had raised him very strictly indeed, and on this ship he was a nurse, giving him precious few stretches of free time. Now he was finally free for one night, and he wanted the full experience, all the beauty of life.

"C'mon, Walt," said Kaspar, as the game wound down. "Want to go play downstairs?"

"It's way too early."

The treasurer cleared his throat, a faint blush on his blond face. Now was the time.

"Not - ahem..." he began. "Not if I go in the barrel."

"I guess there's no rule against that," said Walt with a shrug. Just a bit of the same reluctance was on his face, too. Together the two cadets strolled out of the lounge and down the ladder.

But their plans would change. As they stepped onto the bottom deck, Kaspar heard grunts - mighty, low-register grunts, the kind that could only come from a true macho man.

Speeding up, they turned the corner and walked into the barrel room to see Otto beating his meat. His garments were thrown in a heap on the floor, his girthy penis lubed up and furiously purple in his hand while he perched on one of the crowd chairs. He was looking at a picture, a leatherman sketch Mikey got in New York.

Kaspar was rooted to his spot. The hunk greeted him, putting the sketch down, and he just stood there, jaw open and eyes agape. Walt nudged him helpfully.

"You can come on over," said the muscleman, between loud nasal grunts.

The ice was already broken open. Still wide-eyed, Kaspar said nothing as he hauled off his clothes and lumbered over to a free chair in the row behind Otto. He was ecstatic - maybe the happiest he'd ever been. But at the same time, there were surely so many ways things could go wrong...

Walt moved into position at his side, held his forearm, and immediately both their faces wandered straight down at each other. Their pubic areas were shaved immaculately, and the pale treasurer scanned with awe over the soft brown skin of the nurse, who was sporting a semi, cut and a little skinny but at least average in length.

Precum was leaking hot and fast out of the eye of Walt's cock. Kaspar brought his fingertip to it, then smeared that musky liquid down and around the rim of the glans, which was encircled by a ring of tiny, pearly bumps.

"How does that feel?" asked the blond.

"Yes - yes - don't stop... ah, fffffuck..."

Kaspar applied a slight pinching motion as he worked his way around the studded flare. Every stud vibrated with pleasure while the warm fluid oozed in between them. Then he spiralled his hand shut and bated the rim and glans with short, rapid strokes, making Walt babble and bite his tongue. His world was rocking up and down, his chin bobbing beneath his drooling jaw. All the while, Otto slid in and out of focus in front of him, his furry belly heaving while he jacked his shaft, staring at Walt's dick and Kaspar's helping hand.

"Weed - sometimes has this - effect on me," said Otto, between his laboring breaths.

Walt panted. He realized that this was his first time he'd actually been with a person. Not through a glory hole, not with a girl in a dark closet at a house party. This was going off without a hitch, and it was better than he ever would have dreamed. His studded head darkened into deep purple while he climbed higher, slowly but blissfully, moaning between grinning teeth, caught between Kaspar's touches and Otto's beautiful sights.

"Hmmm-AH..."

Walt's mouth angled open suddenly, giving a short bark. The blond looked in his eyes and saw the tell-tale look coming on, the lust of a breeding animal. Although his balls were small, they pulled up with a furious jerk, making his sack pulsate.

"Oh, fuck, yes, come on, come on!" urged Kaspar. Otto was nodding, stretching his neck closer in.

"Mmmm-aaahhhhh," said Walt, not screaming, just twisting open his mouth. "I'm cumming - I'm cumming - I'mcummingI'mcummingI'mcumming..."

Just as Kaspar eased off, Walt's boner flipped backwards on himself, and it started to pulse. Sperm blew out of the studded head in geyser blasts, rocketing across his abdomen and chest. He moaned and puffed for a solid minute while more trails of the seed flew, almost clear, rolling sideways to his left and right and covering his hairless torso with a shimmering sheen.

The treasurer turned to Otto while he wiped up the cum stains from his relaxed, blissful friend. "Thanks so much for the help," he told him.

Abruptly, the muscleman shifted closer.

"Ahhhh... does someone want to show their appreciation?"

He shifted to the corner of the chair, angling his raging boner at Kaspar, and it flicked up at his face as he clenched his taint.

"I want you to blow me, Kaspar."

"B-b-blow you?"

He waved his hard-on at the blond again, and he extended his open hand, laying it in his palm and looking it over. Otto's pubes were trimmed short, except for a small thick muff around the base of his robust seven-inch shaft, which was speckled with a few birthmarks. The foreskin was long in the front-to-back direction, as was the skin of his nutsack, and here and there it was bunched into horizontal wrinkles.

Only the tip of the head protruded, and Kaspar encircled it, twisting the flesh around under firm friction. Otto blocked his hand.

"I need my dick sucked," he said, point-blank. "Please help me out."

"But - but -" Kaspar stammered. "I've never done that before - it'll be my - my..."

"First time," finished Otto calmly. "And if you do it right now, it'll be your fastest ever. Just look at me." His hard-on leapt in Kaspar's hand, precum and lube flowing out from the head. On a normal day he'd have run away and been back up to his bunk by now. But tonight he paused, appreciated the beauty. There was a magic to Otto's cock, a lusty magic that Kaspar could feel, needed to let loose.

After a long pause, the blond finally slurped, moistening his mouth, and he bent down. He hesitantly ran his tongue along the side of Otto's shaft, from the pubic bush across the wrinkles until it met the hard-up head. A deep purr of satisfaction came out of Otto, followed by louder ones while Kaspar licked the other side, then the top, and finally the bottom, hitting that frenular crossbar under the tip of his tongue and tasting the chemical spice of the lube.

He kissed the head once, then dug his tongue under the skin, retracting it and planting more kisses around the hunk's wide, engorged flare. Slurp, slurp, slurp, went Kaspar's mouth back down to the cock root, and then he brought it left and right, applying light licks to the balls and the pits at the sides of Otto's crotch. Mighty puffs of air rumbled from deep inside his chest, coming out in growls while the fireworks rocketed up from his penis into his brain. Down below, Kaspar was aching. He was just about as hard as his receiver.

"Yes, Kaspar!" said Walt, in a whispered yell. "Get him off!"

It only took another thirty seconds before a throaty moan came out of Otto. It was time for the final push. The treasurer slurped and blubbered, getting his mouth full up with saliva, and then he pounced in on Otto's balls, sticking his tongue inside the wrinkles and wetting up every surface.

The big man's breath accelerated. Now it was rattling, inhaling and exhaling all on its own. Kaspar lifted up the big dick, concentrating on the underside and dragging his tongue in rapid circles up the skin from the base to the tip. Then, he sunk his lips in under the corona and engulfed the head with kisses and sucks.

Otto shrieked, blowing out air like a bull elephant. Without another word, he propelled his load out of his piss slit and across Kaspar's face, tossing great globules of cum across his neck, his collarbone, his cheeks - practically everywhere he could reach. The muscleman's climax must have gone on for twenty seconds or more, and once it was done, his chest and abdomen hair were filled with beads of sweat, his face exhausted and drained.

"You are - a brilliant - cocksucker," he heaved.

Walt smiled at him too. "You're one of us now."

And finally, for the first time since he had puffed that joint today, Kaspar laughed.

There was only one thing left for him to do. He stood in the center of the floor and grasped his hard member, showing it off to the audience. He masturbated it under a firm hand, and drummed his fingers against the side of his engorged, fiery-red tip. His ring and pinky fingers hooked underneath the glans, and he rubbed them left and right on the narrow, tender cylinder of his shaft's groove.

"Blast it all out, Kasp," said Walt happily.

The blond was absolutely silent, holding his breath. With every millimeter of rubbing, a thousand sparks were erupting. He fluttered his fingers with more intensity, more passion, and far below, the muscles began to contract and pump, and then came the feeling -

"BaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaaaah!"

The air exploded out of Kaspar, and blowing his load high across the room, aimed into fast, powerful projectiles by that tapered head and small slit. Kneeling down, Otto fondled the blond man's perineum, milking more drops of seed up out of his organs and through the air. His volume must have been at least as big as Otto's, despite him being scarcely half his weight.

Growling amicably, Otto curled his bicep, hugging Kaspar against one side and Walt against the other. And the three naked men flopped over on their backs, letting out chuckles which steadily grew into belly laughs.

Laughing at nothing in particular. Laughing at life.